“And this is the way?”

“I could think of no other.  Is it of no avail?”

She shook her head.  “You have made such a dreadful mistake,” she cried miserably, “and you won’t see it.  Oh, how you wrong him!  I am the happiest girl in the world, and it is he who makes me so happy.  But I can’t explain.  You need not ask me; I promised, and I won’t.”

“You used not to be so fond of mystery, Grizel.”

“I am not fond of it now.”

“Ah, it is he,” David said bitterly, and he lifted his hat.  “Is there nothing you will let me do for you, Grizel?” he cried.

“I thought you were to do so much for me when you came into this room,” she admitted wistfully, “and said that you were in love.  I thought it was with another woman.”

He remembered that her face had brightened.  “How could that have helped you?” he asked.

She saw that she had but to tell him, and for her sake he would do it at once.  But she could not be so selfish.

“We need not speak of that now,” she said.

“We must speak of it,” he answered.  “Grizel, it is but fair to me.  It may be so important to me.”

“You have shown that you don’t care for her, David, and that ends it.”

“Who is it?” He was much stirred.

“If you don’t know——­”

“Is it Elspeth?”

The question came out of him like a confession, and hope turned Grizel giddy.

“Do you love her, David?” she cried.

But he hesitated.  “Is what you have told me true, that it would help you?” he asked, looking her full in the eyes.

“Do you love her?” she implored, but he was determined to have her answer first.

“Is it, Grizel?”

“Yes, yes.  Do you, David?”

And then he admitted that he did, and she rocked her arms in joy.

“But oh, David, to say such things to me when you were not a free man!  How badly you have treated Elspeth to-day!”

“She does not care for me,” he said.

“Have you asked her?”—­in alarm.

“No; but could she?”

“How could she help it?” She would not tell him what Tommy thought.  Oh, she must do everything to encourage David.

“And still,” said he, puzzling, “I don’t see how it can affect you.”

“And I can’t tell you,” she moaned.  “Oh, David, do, do find out.  Why are you so blind?” She could have shaken him.  “Don’t you see that once Elspeth was willing to be taken care of by some other person——­I must not tell you!”

“Then he would marry you?”

She cried in anxiety:  “Have I told you, or did you find out?”

“I found out,” he said.  “Is it possible he is so fond of her as that?”

“There never was such a brother,” she answered.  She could not help adding, “But he is still fonder of me.”

The doctor pulled his arm over his eyes and sat down again.  Presently he was saying with a long face:  “I came here to denounce the cause of your unhappiness, and I begin to see it is myself.”